Is Your Boyfriend On It? by Suzanne Young
Smeared nail polish. Aiden. Cheaters. Fudge ripple! Something was wrong.
“I’ll call you back,” I said, clicking off the phone. Darren was a Wildcat, and my boyfriend was his captain. That made him Aiden’s responsibility. He needed to rein in this mess or I would get cheeredieval on his rear.
I set the phone back on the wall and marched to my room. Aiden’s mom would be less than thrilled to see me tonight, so I’d have to climb up the latticework to his room. Again.
I sighed. Why was everything getting so complicated? Couldn’t I just cheer, come home, hook up with my boyfriend, and go to sleep?
Searching through my closet, I looked past the rows of mission-specific attire-one-piece bodysuits, spandex running pants, utility belts with climbing gear, and tons of hats and scarves.
Aha! There, near the back, was the only clean black shirt I had that wasn’t for SOS. My mother had gotten it for me when she was in her bohemian rhapsody phase. It was seriously drab. It took most of my willpower to not pair it with the cute metallic leggings I’d just bought and instead choose dark jeans. I wouldn’t want Aiden’s mom to spot me sneaking in. That certainly wouldn’t help her negative attitude.
I glanced in my full-length mirror. Great. I looked like a ninja. What I wouldn’t do for my squad, for girls everywhere.
I tied my dark strands into a still-cute, yet casual high knot and contemplated using black eyeliner to ring my eyes. Never mind, there was no need to go overboard. I grabbed my oversized purse, tossing its strap onto my shoulder as I headed to the doorway.
Aiden would be excited to see me, at least. And I did still need him to fix my toenails, even though I had a feeling we’d just get carried away again. I glanced in my purse quickly and smiled when I spied my extra bottle of ruby red polish.
A Smitten Kitten was always prepared.
I paused under Aiden’s window, looking from the large porch in the front to his darkened pane, charting my usual course. There was latticework with interwoven vines attached to the white siding, and amazingly enough, it wouldn’t be the first lattice I’d climbed this week.
When we’d investigated Peter Corning on Tuesday, I’d had to shimmy across his cedar roof to get a picture of him cheating. He and his female accomplice were totally getting it on in his parents’ room! Gross.
His girlfriend, Marissa, was so ticked when she found out, she’d given him a bloody lip in the middle of homeroom! It was quite a scene—swearing, punching, and groin kicking.
Sheesh. Peter would freak if he knew how Marissa had found out about his cheating. So far, none of the guys knew SOS existed—our clients were great at keeping the secret. Even better, nobody outside of the Smitten Kittens knew our true identities. And we planned to keep it that way.
My sneaker fit perfectly in between the slots of the wooden grid as I climbed. My pulse was racing. Heights weren’t my thing. Well, not unless I had a good solid base beneath me, and this latticework was nowhere near as dependable as my girls. They would never drop me.
Aiden’s window was half open, and I smiled. I figured it would be, since I snuck in to see him about twice per week. It would have been quite an inconvenience if I had to pick the lock every time. I pushed the cold glass up all the way before crawling in.
“Hey,” I whispered as I slid my legs over the sill. Aiden’s bedroom was lined with trophies and ribbons dating back to elementary school. My sweetie had even earned a merit badge from Boy Scouts for knot tying. But what I loved most was that his room smelled like him: athletic, sexy, and comforting. His sheets rustled as he shifted in the bed.
“Baby?” He sounded sleepy. Aiden sat up and clicked on his side table lamp, lighting up the room. I noticed that the tracksuit he’d been wearing earlier was tossed on the wood floor. It made me wonder what exactly he was wearing under his sheets. I licked my lips.
Aiden rubbed at his face and grinned at me. “What are you doing here?” His question brought me back to my Kitten senses.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Sit with me,” he said, moving over and holding open his plaid comforter for me. He was wearing the boxers I’d given him for Christmas, the ones with little reindeers on them. He’d been thinking of me! That was awfully sweet of him.
I walked over and sat down, almost ready to forget everything, but then Kira’s sobbing voice popped in my head, sniffles and all.
“What’s wrong?” Aiden asked. “I don’t like to see you frown.” He used his finger to trace my downturned mouth. He really didn’t like to see me sad. Luckily, I rarely was—it wasn’t the Smitten Kitten way.
“It’s Darren,” I said. “He cheated on Kira.”
“What?” Aiden furrowed his brow and glanced around the room, then looked back at me. “Are you fucking serious?”
I glared at him. He rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Are you effing serious?” Aiden raked his fingers through his hair, looking confused.
“I’m seriously serious.”
He paused, shaking his head. Then he straightened up. “Wait. Was it with Charlie?”
My stomach flipped. “You knew?”
“No! Of course not. It’s just ... I saw him talking to her after school. I thought it was weird, but it wasn’t anything to call him on.”
“Maybe you should have.”
“Tessa.”
“Now you have to, Aiden! Your boys have been out of control lately. Do you realize that every member of the starting five, except you, has cheated on their girlfriend? Do you think that’s okay?” I felt shaky. I didn’t like having to point out something he should have already known. And besides, it was so negative.
“No, I don’t. But—”
“Well, then, you need to tell them that. You should be leading them.”
Aiden chuckled. He moved over, wrapping me up and putting his chin on my shoulder. “Baby,” he said. “They’re my friends. And I lead them in basketball, not in life.”
“Maybe a life coach is exactly what they need.”
“I can’t do that.”
“I lead the Smitten Kittens! They listen to me. You don’t see any of us running around behind our boyfriends’ backs.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true. But at least we weren’t cheating.
Oh, butterscotch. I was starting to get choked up. Poor Kira. She’d really liked Darren. They’d been together for close to a month. It was her longest relationship.
“Besides,” I said, sniffling. “I should have known.”
“Tessa.” Aiden pulled back and turned me to him, holding my face in his palms. “There’s no way you could have known. It’s not your responsibility. You’re a Sex Kitten, not the morality police.”
I closed my eyes. “It’s Smitten.” Aiden didn’t know about SOS. He had no idea that on the side, the Smitten Kittens were more than the morality police. We were full-on double agents. Like in a James Bond movie—only with twice the sex.
“Lie down with me?” he asked.
I nodded, letting him pull me in between the flannel sheets as disappointment washed over me. I’d let Kira down, and I continued to do something I despised: lie.
Aiden deserved to know what I did with the Smitten Kittens; he’d understand. But I couldn’t tell him because then he’d know I’d kept something from him for the last two years. I twitched my nose and snuggled closer to him, feeling his heat and trying to block out the negativity.
“I love you, baby,” Aiden breathed into my hair as he hugged me.
“I love you too.” I closed my eyes.
SOS CHEATER INCIDENT REPORT
CASE: 043
CLIENT: Caitlyn March
SUBJECT: Michael Garnett
FINDINGS: At approximately 1:00 a.m. on January 30, Mr. Garnett was observed talking online with an unnamed female accomplice. The conversation was not recorded, but judging by Mr. Garnett’s actions, we can safely say it was of a sexual nature.
After a thorough phone record search, it was also discovered that Mr. Garnett had been textin
Note the encounter scheduled on page four. At that meeting, Mr. Garnett and Ms. Belgium were photographed kissing in front of the Seattle’s Best coffeehouse. Those photos are included, as well as pictures of Mr. Garnett in front of his computer. Some with boxers, some without.
We trust that this report will remain confidential as some of the information contained within could compromise our top-secret status.
SOS is sorry for your loss, and we offer our deepest sympathies. We hope that we will not have to assist you again in the future, but please keep us in mind for referrals. Keep smiling,
SOS
Text: 555-0101
Exposing Cheaters for Over Two Years
CHAPTER THREE
“PASS ME THE BOBBY PIN,” I SAID, CHEWING ON the corner of my lip as I fiddled with the padlock on Serena Santos’s metal school locker. I was glad it wasn’t a Master Lock—those suckers took forever to pick! Kira felt around in her blond curls for a second, then smiled as she pulled out a pin and handed it to me.
“Remembered it this time,” she said, beaming. Although Kira had called me about sixteen more times, her depression over Darren only lasted until about five this morning. I was proud of her bravery.
“Hurry, Tess,” she whispered, looking both ways down the hall. “The janitor will be here in twenty minutes.”
Sugarplum fairies! I’d better get to it.
I readjusted my stance, checking the half-lit walkway one last time before I inserted the metal pin into the padlock, twisting and turning it just right. It clicked.
Kira giggled. “I don’t know how you do that. I failed the lock-pick course three times.”
“I remember.” Poor Kira. She had a hard time learning new trades. Now, cheer routines? She was a pro at that.
“I bet Aiden would think it’s totally cute you can pick locks.”
My stomach turned as I looked over my shoulder at her. “Let’s not think about Aiden.”
She grinned, her dimples deepening in her cheeks. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”
Kira’s blue eyes twinkled as she wiggled her eyebrows at me. I couldn’t help it—I laughed. She was right: ignoring Aiden was impossible. And ignoring the guilt I felt for sneaking around was even harder.
“Hey,” she said, putting her arm over my shoulders. “Don’t look so down, Tess. I’m sure he’d understand if you just told him about SOS.”
Kira and the squad knew my inner turmoil about lying to Aiden. And even though they loved Aiden, it was too late for me to tell him the truth. I’d lied for too long. No, I’d just have to stick out the school year. SOS was the Smitten Kittens’ secret. I exhaled.
“We have work to do,” I said, and yanked open the locker with a metal clang.
Kira reached down to grab the equipment out of the backpack. She pulled out a jewelry-size black box and opened it, revealing the small GPS tracker that Leona had scored a few weeks ago with our frequent shopper’s discount.
I took the tiny tracking device from its package and peeled off the self-adhesive back. Then I stuck it in between the pages of Serena’s über-thick chemistry book.
SOS had been alerted that she was a “person of interest” in a new cheating incident. Apparently, Paul Masterson had been disappearing between seventh and ninth period every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So had Serena. Only, SOS hadn’t been able to find where they’d been sneaking off to, and we never accuse without proof. Even if the subjects cheated every time (which they did), we would never tell our clients that. They deserved for it to be definitive. One hundred percent. But it was always 100 percent bad news.
After the chip was settled between the pages, I turned to Kira. “Test it,” I said.
She pulled out the SOS phone, punching in the code with a series of beeps. Even though each of us had an encrypted cell, there was only one official SOS line. So at every meeting, we switched possession. It helped to make everyone feel included. Kira especially loved when it was her turn—total self-esteem boost.
There was a blip.
“Easy squeezy,” she said, holding up the phone to me. I watched the little red light flash, pinpointing our exact location.
I nodded. “All set.” I shut the locker, resetting the padlock, and grabbed up the pack from the linoleum floor. “What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost six.”
I groaned. “We’d better jet. Aiden will be at my house for breakfast at six thirty.”
There was a sound from behind us, and we froze. The janitor was never early! I put my finger to my lips, signaling for Kira to be quiet, and then we backed against the cold lockers, looking down the hall.
There were footsteps, along with the squeaky wheeling of a mop bucket. Double dang it!
“Shit,” Kira whispered. I gave her a dirty look and put my finger sternly in front of my lips again, shushing her.
The squeaking stopped. There was someone right around the corner, just yards away. My heart raced. If we were caught breaking into school, that would be a major violation. I didn’t have time for suspension. The playoffs were getting close. Oh, snapdragon! Please just let them leave.
Kira’s hand slid into mine. It was sort of sweaty.
Then there was a skidding sound, along with a sloshing, as the footsteps and squeaks went off in the direction they’d come from.
We waited until there was only the sound of the ticking furnaces and buzzing fluorescent bulbs before exchanging a glance. It was getting harder and harder to keep up this covert baloney. I missed just being a regular cheerleader. I missed worrying about high kicks instead of high jinks.
But I was a Smitten Kitten. I had responsibilities.
“Come on,” I said, dropping Kira’s hand. “I don’t want Aiden to get suspicious.” I jogged ahead toward the back double doors.
“Now that is a good-looking boy,” Kira whispered next to me in history class. “Heard he just transferred in from West Washington.”
I followed her devious stare over my shoulder to the boy in the back near the bookcase. He was new. Huh—that was odd. Principal Pelli hadn’t made me aware of any transferring students, and as head of the Washington High welcoming committee, I should have been informed. I twitched my nose.
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, turning back around. Mr. Powell was still at his podium in an animated discussion about the former Soviet Union. It was making my head hurt. He’d obviously had some pent-up anger about the Cold War, whenever that was.
“You guess?” Kira kicked at my sneaker under the table. “Look at that hair! He looks like that surfer I dated last summer. Remember him?”
Of course I remembered him. I had seen his sandy rear when I walked in on them at Leona’s parents’ beach house.
I exhaled and turned again. Sure, he did have that chin-length, chocolaty-cute hair that perfectly framed his strong jaw line. And okay, there were his eyelashes: long and curled, accentuating the soft olive tone of his smooth skin. But—
Suddenly he looked up, staring directly at me. My mouth fell open for a second in surprise, but I snapped it shut and offered a polite smile. He grinned. Slowly, and slightly mortified, I turned in my seat and dropped my head.
“Thanks, K. Now he thinks I was checking him out.”
“Well, I was checking him out,” she said, and then licked her lips. “He’s drop-dead delicious.”
“He’s okay.” My eyes flicked up to Mr. Powell. The marker was screeching on the whiteboard as he wrote the names of people I didn’t recognize. Wait, Reagan! Ha. One I knew! She was totally from King Lear!
Kira giggled next to me. “Sure, Tess. He’s only okay.” She grabbed her purple pom-pom pen and jotted down something from the board. “You are whipped cream,” she mumbled.
When class mercifully ended, I pushed back in my
I glanced up the length of the body until I was staring into the face of the new guy, standing there in corduroys and a long-sleeve tee, grinning at me.
Straightening my posture, I pulled my eyebrows together.
“Hi,” I said. Wow, he was even better looking up close.
“You’re Tessa Crimson, right?” His voice was soft. I relaxed slightly.
“Um, yeah.” I slipped into polite mode. I was cheer director for a reason. “Tessa Crimson. Hi.”
“I’m Christian. Christian Ferril.” He outstretched his hand.
I took it without thinking, but when his cool palm touched mine, I felt my heart rate speed up. He was squeezing me just a little too tightly.
“Nice to meet you,” I said as calmly as possible. Where in the world had Kira disappeared? Discreetly, I tried to jet my eyes around the emptying classroom for her. She was gone. Great—it was her fault that I’d looked at him.
“How did you—”
“Know your name?” he finished for me, laughing softly.
I wasn’t sure why, but this hot surfer made me uneasy. Like he was in on a joke that I hadn’t heard the punch line for yet. I slipped into SOS mode, trying to seek out his ulterior motive, but then stopped. I had to remind myself that I was in school and not on a mission.
“Mr. Powell,” he said, tilting his head toward the front of the class. “He told me to see you for the notes from last week. He’s making me take the test tomorrow.” Christian rolled his eyes. “So he said to ask Tessa Crimson for the materials. And ...” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his corduroys. “Here I am. Sort of embarrassing myself by rambling.”
Aw, it was nice of Mr. Powell to recommend me. Even though I was an A student, I was far from a brain. I’d certainly have to send him a polite thank-you note. I looked appreciatively to his podium.
“Tessa?” Christian asked.